Flight of the Hawke
by MsBells
Summary: Hailey Hawke wants nothing to do with her magic, despite her family's combined attempts to convince her. But in the city of Kirkwall, she hasn't got much of a choice if she doesn't want to be left behind. AU with a fourth Hawke sibling.
1. Chapter 1: Growing Up

**Flight of the Hawke**

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><p><strong>Summary<strong>: Hailey Hawke wants nothing to do with her magic, despite her family's combined attempts to convince her. But in the city of Kirkwall, she hasn't got much of a choice if she doesn't want to be left behind. AU with a fourth Hawke sibling.

**A/N**: My apologies for the ridiculously short chapter, but this is only the intro. . . Lucky for you I'm almost finished with Chapter 2. Enjoy and please don't be shy, I really, really, love getting reviews. You have no idea how happy they make me, or maybe you do if you write as well? :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>: Growing Up

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><p>You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're woken up by the screams of your sister.<p>

"Hails, wake up! Andraste's ass, please just wake up!"

Beth's slight fingers poked and prodded me as I opened my eyes with difficulty, resisting the urge to simply pull the covers of my warm blanket over my head. For once, just once, I had been given a day free from chores. In fact, much to my mother's delight, I was to be meeting a _boy._ But that was only happening in the afternoon, and at the moment I would bet my breakfast that the sun had only just risen. The only rational reason for Beth to attack me first thing in the morning was that no one had told her about my date, which was ridiculous as I was sure the entire hoard of Hawkes had been gossiping and laughing about it the entire week.

Glaring at my frantic sister sourly, I opened my mouth to send a scathing retort, only to be interrupted by an assortment of clothing being thrown in my face.

She then launched herself across the room and under her bed, digging around for her magical pointy stick no doubt, before finally speaking again, "Get changed! Quickly, they're coming!"

"Bethany," I sighed, using her full name as demanded by the gravity of her offense, "what are you talking about? And what are you wearing?"

Finally emerging, her hair sticking up oddly and bits of cobweb covering her strange clothing which included chainmail, she let out a soft hiccup of fear, "Darkspawn."

My mood had officially been ruined.

"Shit," I swore, suddenly exploding into a mad flurry of pulling on clothes correctly while trying to get rid of my sleeping wear. "How soon?"

"Garrett said it wasn't going to be long, mothers having a panic attack in the kitchen and Carver only got back earlier this morning. . . . I don't want to die, Hails!" Bethany looked at me, her eyes widened in terror as a single tear travelled down her cheek.

I sighed, finally managing to look somewhat presentable in a white, buttoned shirt and a pair of simple dark pants stuffed hurriedly into my boots. I then proceeded to the corner of the room, where I crouched on the floor, skimming my fingers across a loose wooden plank before gently lifting it to reveal my prized possessions. A selection of gleaming silverite knives lay wrapped in blue cloth, their black leather handles were decorated with a leafy vine pattern, soft and slightly worn with use. The blades themselves were immaculate, sharpened with great care. I had acquired them after performing a small favour for a passing weapon smith, a favour that my family had no idea of. As thanks, he had gifted me the set along with a helpful manual, telling me to use them well. And with one last cheeky wink with his twinkling silver eyes, he had disappeared with his wares and I had not seen him since.

I had practised throwing them in the woods behind our family's small cottage, keeping it a secret from everyone. In truth, they were all expecting me to learn magic alongside my two siblings. Instead, I had defied my father's wishes and spent my days with Carver while he learned the art of wielding a two-handed weapon. He had confessed to me his reasons behind his choice of a large great sword instead of using a shield. It made him feel powerful, like he was a mage with something deadly at his fingertips. I respected that, and he respected my reasons for not revealing where I seemed to disappear to every evening and early morning.

Others, like Garrett, had been less accommodating.

He'd tried to follow me, even going as far as threatening to make a phylactery. But I had evaded his feeble attempts to track me down. Most of the time, he only got horribly lost and returned home to find me innocently waiting at the table for dinner. On others, he had come dangerously close to discovering my secret. Eventually, he gave up and let me be. I like to say that he grew up and had other more pressing and important things to worry about. Like protecting the family and helping to provide food for the table and Carvers infinite stomach.

Truthfully, I had no idea why I had kept it a secret. It didn't seem right, a mage playing with knives, but I honestly had no interest in the arcane and its complexities. My father had simply taught me how to hide my magic and to say no to any form that I met in the fade that offered me something, anything else was completely unknown to me. I knew that I wouldn't be great in a dangerous fight, but I could protect myself adequately and years of tumbling with the other children and Carver in the streets while Bethany and Garrett chanted incantations monotonously had given me a roguish streak. Dirty tricks and slipping in the shadows was what I was good at, not causing fire to fall out of the sky.

I had only ever used the knives once on a living creature, and I had despised the experience. While practising, a wolf had come across my training grounds and for some reason felt the need to attack me. In defence, I had grabbed the knives and threw one or two, missing completely. As the beast had taken a large leap, jaw aimed for my throat, I had grabbed my final knife in the belt and thrust it into the wolf's stomach. Watching the life leave its eyes, I couldn't help but start to cry as blood coated my fingers and clothing, the knife still imbedded in its flesh. It had been an eye opening experience, teaching me that I was soft in the face of danger, prone to making mistakes and miscalculations. And the deed of killing was not one I wanted to excel in; the feeling of it having affected me mentally and physically. I had refused to touch the knives for months after, not even taking care of them as I usually did.

But now, with the Darkspawn as a constant threat, I wouldn't be able to just sit back and hide with mother, as was expected of me as the youngest child. I would have to act and protect my family in whatever way possible and in whatever way I knew. Beth walked up to me curiously as I slipped the knives into the belt they had come with before finally tying it around my waist. The smallest knife had a sheath that wrapped around my calf, just above my boot. For 'emergencies', the manual had told me.

"What are those? Hails, you're going to hurt yourself with them!" she gasped as I ran a finger across one experimentally before wrapping the blue material around my waist to cover the knives.

"I know what I'm doing Beth. Are your ready to run? Got your jewellery? I know father wouldn't want you to leave it behind."

She nodded slowly before allowing me to grab her hand gently and lead her to the door of our shared room, her magic stick trailing across the ground as we she walked. Casting one final look back, I drank in the picture. My bed with its ruffled soft blankets, the pillow still with the slight imprint of my head, and Beth's, already made perfectly. The faded, yellow walls that we had had since childhood still gave me a slightly cheered feeling, and then there was the worn wooden floor, almost completely smooth to the touch after many years of walking over it. An old dresser stood imposingly in the corner, carved with words and patterns that we had done whenever the urge struck us. The window cast the morning light into the modest room, creating an idyllic scene that didn't deserve to be ruined.

A single teddy bear sat discarded on the floor, having been knocked out of my bed as I slept. Staring at it for a single moment, I decided that it was about time to grow up.

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><p><strong>I don't own Dragon Age or anything to do with the world, characters and most of the dialogue. I do, however, own the idea of Hailey Hawke and the dialogue she has (I might use the games dialogue (which I don't own) depending on where the story takes me).<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: The Darkspawn

**Flight of the Hawke**

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><p><strong>Summary<strong>: Hailey Hawke wants nothing to do with her magic, despite her family's combined attempts to convince her. But in the city of Kirkwall, she hasn't got much of a choice if she doesn't want to be left behind. AU with a fourth Hawke sibling.

**A/N**: Well here it is! Chapter 2! Thank you for continuing to read my ramblings. Enjoy and please don't be shy, I really, really, love getting reviews. You have no idea how happy they make me, or maybe you do if you write as well? :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>: The Darkspawn

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><p>We could still hear the screams as we ran; they tormented us, begging for someone, anyone, to help them. But we couldn't turn back, unless we wanted to die to a group of gurgling monsters that ran after us, swords raised as they shrieked, grinning morbidly. I could smell death, feel it clogging the air. Or maybe it was just the smoke.<p>

We had barely escaped our small cottage in time before the Darkspawn emerged from the hills. They had mages with them, mages that seemed to delight in setting places, and people, alight. Garrett had led us onwards, charging through the hordes. His magic crackled in the air, lightning, ice and fire creating flashes of light and leaving behind corpses. Beth was next, trying her best to keep up with Garrett's chaos. Mother and I ran, our heads low, as we tried to ignore the blood that leaked from various neighbours and friends, the children crying for their mothers and the flames that crackled menacingly. Carver came behind us along with our pet Mabari, Sire, pausing to hack periodically at those that had escaped our brother's wrath.

It was a strange system, an automatic survival technic that we had assumed after leaving home. It was, obviously, my duty to keep mother moving and safe from anything that came near us. _'Highly unlikely,_' I thought, as Carver took out two human-like monsters that had appeared in front of us by chopping off their heads in one blow. The blood arched through the air, one small droplet landing on the bridge of my nose. I could feel it sliding down my cheek, only just missing my mouth. Carver wasn't so lucky, but I don't suppose he really bothered, after all it was only blood, something that came with causing death. Unless you were a mage. Then you could crush your victims from the inside, or make them jump off cliffs, no mess required.

Mother was exhausted, I could see it, and the blood scared her. She was not meant to be exposed to such things, not now and not ever. None of us were. But of course, with his usual bravado, Carver had taken off to join the army fighting at Ostagar; he wanted to prove that he wasn't worthless compared to his other siblings. Garrett had stayed behind, staying solemn as he held mother while she cried for her youngest son. We had not expected him to return.

Beth had described it as being like something of a fairy tale, the knight coming home from a long battle. Victorious, happy to see his family again. Carver had appeared on the hill while the sun was rising, the orange rays providing a dramatic scene. He had looked so different, grown up and proud. Beth had seen him while collecting the eggs from the chickens, and had run up to meet him, shrieking with delight.

But that was where the fairy tale comparison ended.

He had been exhausted, half crazed even, as he tried to tell Beth what had happened to the king and the army. Mother had heard Beth's yelling and had come to investigate. But of course, she knew immediately that something was wrong, he was her son after all. Carver had just sat down in the house and told his story again, when Garrett proceeded to run into the kitchen, only looking once at his brother, before saying calmly, "The Darkspawn are coming, pack only the necessities."

Mother was starting to slow down, her laboured breaths loud to my ears despite the noises of everything else. With one last final stagger, she fell to the ground, bringing me down with her.

"Beth!" I screamed, desperately trying to bring mother to her feet.

Looking back in surprise, Beth casted a fire spell that exploded around the monsters chasing us, felling one or two of them effectively. Garrett charged one that had braved the flames, swinging the blade at the end of his magic stick. Finally, Carver leapt at the last one, slamming his great sword down on its head. With one last dying hiss, the darkspawn fell.

Mother rose, shivering with nerves and fatigue. I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as she looked at me with wide eyes. Sire trudged up to me and lay at my feet, his one paw resting on my foot.

"I think that's all of them," Carver grunted heavily, resting his massive great sword across his shoulder, ignoring the sticky blood that dripped onto his shirt.

Bethany looked back at the flames, her eyes slightly dazed from the amount of mana she had used, "For the moment, I suppose."

"Makers breath," Mother suddenly cried out, large strands of her dark grey hair escaping from her simple low ponytail, "we've lost it all. Everything your father and I built. . ."

"We can't stop now, we have to keep going," Garret urged, his mana still bubbling around him powerfully.

"Yes, you're right, we should," Mother looked at all of us sadly before taking one more trudging step away from Lothering, only to stop again to look back.

"Makers breath, Hails, why did you take so long to wake up? We should've been long gone before the darkspawn arrived."

I ignored Carver, choosing instead to lend a helping arm for mother to lean on. Although true, his words stung. If one of us had been caught by the darkspawn because I had slept in . . . It was not something I liked to think of.

"If we stand around any longer, we'll die." Garrett motioned towards the flame barrier, which was noticeably starting to dim. Darkspawn had collected behind it, banging their twisted swords against their shields, reminding me of savage barbarians.

Carver nodded slowly before finally saying, "Lead on brother."

Our family started to move again, this time bunched into a small group. Mother had seemed to relax slightly, and I could see by her eyes that her defiant Amell streak had set in. She would get through this. I, on the other hand, had taken to jumping at any sudden loud noises, causing Beth to tease me of being scared of my own shadow. Her attempt to lighten the mood however didn't work, and we moved on silently after that.

After defeating a small group of monsters, Beth finally spoke up, "Wait, where are we actually going?"

Pausing, Carver looked at his twin sister, confused, "Away from the Darkspawn of course."

"And then where? We can't just wander aimlessly."

Garrett sighed, obviously annoyed that we had stopped, but in his usual collected poise, he answered Beth's question, "It doesn't matter, as long as we stay together we'll be fine."

"We'll also be fine if she stay _away_ from the darkspawn, so I suggest we carry on moving," I muttered nervously, looking at the blighted land that surrounded us, nothing green in sight. Everything was dead.

Mother's face lit up as though we had told her it was Satanalia, "We could go to Kirkwall."

Garrett and Bethany looked as though they had been slapped in the face, both sending out their protests immediately.

"What? Why would we go there?"

"There are a lot of Templars in Kirkwall, mother. . ."

"I know that, but we still have family there, and an estate!" Mother pleaded, sending her best guilt inducing face our way.

Sighing, Beth gave in first, "Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship."

Carver sent me a look, his eyebrows raised high before whispering to me, "You up for the Free Marches, Lady Hailey?'"

Grinning, I whispered sarcastically to him, "Oh of course! I heard it's lovely this time of the year. Perhaps we'll have picnics in the garden while eating sweet rolls and sipping tea with the Knight Commander, Lord Carver. And don't forget the fancy dresses, how I love those frills and bows!"

He pulled a face that caused me to laugh loudly, earning us surprised looks from both Beth and Garrett. Mother simply smiled and I had the oddest feeling that she had heard our conversation.

My mirth was soon ended by yet another group of monsters which attempted to stop our escape.

For all my talk of defending my family, I was doing a poor job of fighting. Instead I usually dragged mother away from the danger and stood in front of her protectively without actually doing anything to help. Instead, I watched Garrett swerve and duck, using the combined efforts of his magic and staff to bring down the darkspawn. Beth preferred to stand back, using small bursts of flame and the occasional spear of ice. I knew that she had preferred learning the art of healing and herbalism from father, not fighting techniques. Carver on the other hand seemed to charge blindly, looking like a raging bear compared to Garrett's precise movements. But it was effective, proved so when he swung his great sword, slicing through the monsters as though they were made of butter left in the sun.

It made me feel pathetic, truthfully. Who was I, a mage who knew how to throw sharp pointy things at unmoving trees, to even think of attempting to join my siblings in what they were obviously very good at?

No one, really, I was after all the youngest Hawke sibling, the afterthought. There was always Garrett, the serious, dashing oldest son. The girls swooned when he walked past and cast his noble gaze on them. There were the twins, unusual and rare, Bethany and Carver. Beth had her adorable puppy eyes and a heart shaped face that screamed beautiful, and then there was Carver, the slightly moody younger brother with the strong jaw who was completely fearless. Finally, there was that other girl, the youngest daughter, the one that kept to herself and disappeared mysteriously into the forest every day. A complete disgrace to the family, causing trouble in the dusty streets and always in a fight. Wearing pants to the chantry services and acting overall like a boy of all things.

I was proud of my reputation, that was true, but sometimes I wanted to be remembered as something more. Not just that strange Hawke girl.

Mother had tried to make a young respectable lady out of me, attempting to make me learn embroidery and sewing, cleaning and cooking, reading and writing. I had ignored it all, preferring to escape to the forest. To find out how the wolf cubs were faring in their new den, how many fawns had been born each spring and following the bears to their stashes of sweet honey. I had grown up among the tress, and they were more of a home to me than any four walls and a roof. Sometimes, I desperately wished that the Dalish would wander through the forest and come across me, where they would accept me into their clan and I would travel the world. But they were only childish dreams, I knew it was impossible. In truth, they would probably kill me on sight.

Mother's hand squeezing my shoulder brought me back to the present. The first thing I noticed was two figures being overwhelmed by darkspawn not far from us. And one was dressed in the templars ridiculous armour, sans the bucket helmet. Before I could shout a warning, a monster had struck him from behind with its jagged sword, cackling delightedly. The templar let out a yell of pain before staggering forwards, dropping his shield and sword and instead clutching his wound in an attempt to keep his blood where it belonged. But before the darkspawn could finish the job, the other figure had tackled it, much to my surprise. With quick movements, the figure began to punch the darkspawn viciously before grabbing the fallen sword and slicing its head off. And, adding to my shock, I realised it was a woman.

"They will not have you," she cried, grabbing the shield and immediately running to the templar and lifting him up by wrapping his one arm over her shoulder, "not while I breathe."

"What are you waiting for?" I managed to say to my equally shocked siblings, "Go and help them."

They burst into action and the mad flurry of battle started again, and ended much faster this time with the warrior woman on our side. We slowly approached her and templar, waiting for the inevitable hatred that would surely follow any templar worth his purple skirt.

"Stop squirming, Wesley. You'll make it worse," the woman chided. Her hair was a brilliant fiery orange and her eyes were emerald green. When looking at her, my first thought was 'strong', which was the perfect description. She looked like someone who could break me in half if I ever attempted to cross her, and by the look of the darkspawns face she had pummelled, I would definitely make a point to never get on her bad side. The templar looked completely dull in comparison, dark hair with plain brown eyes.

Finally managing to stand without help, he immediately turned to my brother and sister, pointing his finger at them accusingly.

"Apostates, keep your distance."

"Well the Maker has a sense of humour," Bethany rolled her eyes while chuckling softly. "Darkspawn, and now a templar. I thought they all abandoned Lothering."

"The 'spawn are clear in their intent, but a mage is always unknown. The Order dictates. . ."

"Wesley," the woman warned, but he ignored her and carried on regardless of the glare he was getting from Garrett.

Stepping forward, the templar continued, "The Order dictates . . ."

Before he could get any closer, Garrett placed himself in front of us, puffing out his chest and raising his head menacingly, easily towering over the templar.

"Dear, they saved us. The Maker understands."

Grudgingly, he stepped back, "Of course."

"I am Aveline Vallen. This is my husband, Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when we're safe from the horde."

Now that the danger had passed, I left the introductions to my brother, who gladly bore the mantle of leader. It fitted him easily, as if he had been born wearing it. Growing bored of the words that were shared, I simply wandered slightly away from the group, casting a look at the dying countryside. I felt its pain as though it was my own, as I had grown up among the land. Creating adventures and living out fantasies that would never happen. But now that Lothering had been lost, and our course set for Kirkwall, I couldn't help but wish that life would become more interesting. It would not hurt, after all, to live out some dreams, to save a life, maybe? Perhaps I would have to learn magic, even though the thought of having anything to do with the fade besides sleep frightened me. Garrett wouldn't have the patience but surely Beth would spend some of her free time teaching me? I could learn healing, which would certainly benefit me more than being able to blow things up. My fingers twitched above my belt, the knives waiting patiently to be used in combat. I could do it, I believed in myself. But that soft press of responsibility pressed down on my shoulders warningly. What if I made a mistake? What if I missed the darkspawn and hit an ally? What if I ruined a particularly important moment with shoddy aim? Maybe I should wait, for the perfect moment to reveal what I had been working on for years. Now certainly wasn't it, the last thing mother needed was to be worrying about her youngest playing with knives.

My brother called out to me, nodding his head towards the road before he started walking, our family plus two following close behind.

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><p><strong>If you haven't already realised, I don't own Dragon Age or anything to do with the world, characters and most of the dialogue. I do, however, own the idea of Hailey Hawke and the dialogue she has (I might use the games dialogue (which I don't own) depending on where the story takes me).<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Playing with Knives

****Flight of the Hawke****

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><p><strong><strong>Summary<strong>: **Hailey Hawke wants nothing to do with her magic, despite her family's combined attempts to convince her. But in the city of Kirkwall, she hasn't got much of a choice if she doesn't want to be left behind. AU with a fourth Hawke sibling.

**A/N**: I'm really sorry this took so long, and it's not as if I had a writers block or anything, because all I have to do is play the game. . . I'm just going to blame exams ^_^ This isn't where I originally planned to end off at this chapter, but I'm getting rather bored of escaping Lothering, should I continue? Or simply move on to when they enter Kirkwall?

I'm sending my apologies in advance, as this is my first action scene and even I'm not happy with it. But hopefully, it makes sense. Enjoy and please don't be shy, I really, really, love getting reviews. You have no idea how happy they make me, or maybe you do if you write as well? :)

**Also, a big thank you to indy's girl, jetonna and Madgod.**

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><p><strong><strong>Chapter 3:<strong> Playing with Knives**

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><p>The ogre was a surprise. A very nasty surprise that would serve a better purpose by simply staying away. It was a massive beast, thick horns sprouting from its head and saliva dripping from its gaping maw as it roared at us. I felt my heart seize up and stop beating all together before stuttering back into life, my entire body trembling in barely supressed fear. I wanted to scream and run as it turned towards me, its beady eyes locking onto my body, suddenly making me feel extremely delicate. Mother stood behind me, backing up slowly and whispering lines of the chant as I attempted to regain some form of movement. Surely she was praying to the Maker, begging for him to have mercy on her youngest daughter, to not let the monstrous darkspawn rip her to tiny shreds and feast on her remains.<p>

"Stay back. . ." I called out to the beast, my voice wavering before finally cracking on the last note.

As if taking my feeble attempts to scare it as an invitation, the ogre moved towards me, its lumbering gait slow, as if it knew I couldn't be much of a threat. I let out a high pitched squeak of fear before attempting to do something, anything. I tried to summon mana from my core, begging it into existence. A small flame flickered on the tips of my fingers, before being blown out by the tiniest gust of wind.

"Stupid magic," I spat, finally managing to take a single step back. My hands immediately went to my knives, and they hovered there, unmoving as I looked the beast straight in the eye. The bloodlust was evident, as was the hunger. This ogre wanted to kill me, wanted to tear the flesh from my bones and reduce me to nothing but a little stain on the dirt. The world went silent as we communicated a message that could only be understood between predator and prey.

I was going to die, and there was not a single thing I could do to stop it.

From what seemed like a distant land, voices screamed and shouted, calling out warnings and threats. It was all dulled as the ogre reached out one massive hand, talons sharp, coated with grime. The colour dimmed to black and white as I was held in a trance by the beast's black soulless eyes.

The flash of red and orange blossomed across my vision, almost blinding me as the ogre covered its face with its arm, grunting with surprise as the fire licked at its armour. The connection broken, I let out soft sight before collapsing to my knees, spots dancing in my eyes as the world came back into sharp and clear focus. The beast turned away and charged off in another direction, ignoring me as I mumbled incoherently out of pure relief. It was far too late to do anything when mother shrieked, a shrill pitch that cut through my muddled thoughts.

"Bethany run!"

A split second after, Beth had been hoisted into the air and then slammed repeatedly into the hard ground, her screams cut short just after the first blow. As though my ears were straining to hear every single detail, the crack of breaking bones filled my mind and replayed over and over again. Finally done, the ogre threw her aside, turning onto its stronger foes. Mother sprinted to Beth's side, skidding to a halt before cradling her daughter, all the while softly calling her name.

Garrett, Carver and Aveline tried, hacking at the ogre and attempting to dodge its heavy and lethal swings, but the hordes of darkspawn streaming from all corners meant they were spending more time trying to escape the ogre than doing any real damage to it.

Casting a glance to Beth, her broken body limp as mother continued to speak to her, rage filled my senses. As though drawn by invisible strings, I finally ripped off the blue material around my waist, revealing the knives beneath. They glinted in the sunlight, looking lethal. I selected two, testing their weight in my hands while my fingers curled around them tightly. They were far smaller than daggers, but if used right they could be just as deadly, even to larger enemies. I eyed the beast, noting its weaknesses before dashing towards it. Luckily, its back was facing me and was distracted as Garrett sent a bolt of lightning at it, the sparks dancing along its flesh. Heavy and slow unless charging, the fastest way of taking it down was to make it even slower. Ducking into a low crouch as I approached the beast, I spread my arms, the daggers held firmly and pointed straight. Slipping straight between its legs, I slashed behind its meaty legs, tearing through the flesh as deeply as possible. The move nearly wrenched my arms out of my sockets, and the daggers threatened to be left nestled just behind its knees. I didn't know where the sudden bout of strength and speed had come from as I took a sharp turn, facing the beast to see what damage I had done.

It let out a massive roar of pain and anger, struggling to hold its weight on the injuries I had caused before finally giving in and falling to its knees. Not wasting a single breath I threw one of the knives in a single sharp and fluid motion. The knife buried itself deep into the beast's eye, but not deep enough to kill it immediately. Cursing, I sheathed the bloodied knife before choosing a clean unused one, gripping it between my teeth securely before running behind the monster. It grunted, attempting to keep its black eyes on me but failing as its legs refused to work. I leaped onto the beast's back, grimacing as I felt its hardened leathery skin. Using the muddled bits of armour as a ladder, I worked my way up until I had reached its head where I grabbed hold of its horns, trying my best to not get thrown off by the now thrashing beast. I let out a roar of triumph before gripping the knife tightly and thrusting it into the back of the ogre's neck, twisting it brutally. Blood splashed over my hands, trickling down my arms and onto my clothing, but I was past caring. Now screeching in pain, the ogre tried to reach me with its talons, thrashing at me in a desperate attempt of getting rid of me. But I refused to let go, forcing the knife deeper into its neck, and eventually it began to give up, sliding slowly to the ground as its blood spread across the dirt.

Exhausted, I simply slid off its shoulders, landing onto the ground heavily.

Around me the sounds of battle continued, metal clashing against metal and the thud of another corpse as it hit the dirt, war cries and screams of fury and pain. Closing my eyes, I attempted to withdraw myself from my surroundings, trying to summon memories of the past that I could use for comfort. Instead, all I could get was the beasts eyes as it was about to kill me.

"Hailey, what the hell was that!"

I opened my eyes cautiously, catching a glimpse of my brother standing over me, covered in darkspawn gore and looking furious.

"I killed an ogre."

"I can see that," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief, "what I want to know is how."

I shrugged pitifully before dropping my head and mumbling, "Beth wasn't moving. . . I was so mad. . ."

At my words, Garrett swore before running off. I watched him for a moment, hoping that I was wrong. But the picture of Beth just lying there, blood trickling out of her mouth and the right side of her body slightly caved in, wouldn't leave me alone. She was dead; there was nothing that could be done anymore. I had been too late.

Slowly rising, I forced myself to walk, dragging my feet slightly on the ground. Mother had flung herself at Garrett, sobbing hysterically as the Templar chanted, sending Beth's soul off to the Maker's side. Carver stood still, like a statue, staring at his twin sister's broken body with horror filled baby blue eyes. Aveline stood to the side, resting her sword against her leg as she bowed her head in a sign of respect. Finally reaching my mother, I placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, begging for her to look at me and to tell me it would be okay.

Instead, when she finally looked up at me I was greeted with the face of an angry woman, tears running down her cheeks as she continued to glare at me for a few moments. Finally, she moved, slapping my hand away from her shoulder and thrusting her finger in my direction.

"You!" she snapped, her eyes narrowed and glowing with fury. "This is your fault!"

Stung, I took a step backwards. "Mother . . .?" I asked cautiously, my eyes widening in confusion and hurt.

"If you had been faster, stronger, _braver_, you could have prevented this from happening! But you didn't, you only stood there as it attacked her, you didn't try to save her even though she saved you . . . Oh my darling Bethany. . ."

With those words, mother cradled Beth in her arms, whispering softly to her as I watched, shocked into silence. Garrett looked at me with no remorse in his eyes; I would not be getting any help from him. Turning to Carver, I held out my hand, stretching my fingers as I pleaded with him silently. My only response was him turning his head away, refusing to look me in the eye. They all blamed me.

Could I have saved her? Could I have managed to strike at the beast before she had had to distract it? Could I have caused it to fall before any damage could be done? With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I knew that the answer for all of the questions was 'no', and it shamed me. Because of Beth, I was alive, and I couldn't even thank her for it. If I had been faster, stronger, braver, just like mother had said, I would have probably been able to bring down the ogre without too much fuss. But instead I had frozen like a child.

Letting out a soft whimper, I turned around and fled, pausing only to retrieve my knife from the ogre's neck and to once again cover my knives with the blue fabric. Just as I was about to reach the closest path however, the darkspawn started to appear, snarling at me viciously. Turning towards my family, I screamed for help. Garrett leapt to his feet and dragged Carver away from the scene of our sister and grieving mother. Aveline followed, casting one last glance at the Templar who was starting to look extremely pale. If there was one more thing we could do for Bethany, it would be to survive.

But after felling a few of the darkspawn, we knew there was no hope as they swarmed, surrounding us as we struggled to keep them away from mother and the injured templar. Trapped against the stone with no way out, we prepared ourselves for a blood bath.

"There's no end to them," Carver gasped, sweat running down his brow.

The menacing roar of a dragon cracked through the tension as our heads whipped to the source of the noise in amazement. The large magnificent beast had launched itself into the air and breathed fire over the remaining darkspawn, grabbing one in its claws as it flew up again, massive wings swishing through the air smoothly and with seemingly no effort. The darkspawn fell from its claws and splattered against the ground before the dragon landed again, breathing even more flame among the charred remains and swiping its spiked tail across the clearing. Grabbing another unfortunate darkspawn in its claws, the dragon raised itself to its hind legs, watching us from its flaming battleground.

"Maker," Garrett muttered, tightening his grip on his magic stick.

The flash of gold light emanating directly from the beast caused us all to step back in fear, watching the dragon's form twist and change into something smaller, the form of an old woman dressed in a set of intricate armour with a long flowing scarlet cloak, her white hair styled elaborately. She strutted towards us slowly, dragging the darkspawn clutched in her gauntlet along for a while before dropping it to the ground, a smirk pulling at the corners of her red lips.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

* * *

><p><strong>If you haven't already realised, I don't own Dragon Age or anything to do with the world, characters and most of the dialogue. I do, however, own the idea of Hailey Hawke and the dialogue she has (I might use the games dialogue (which I don't own) depending on where the story takes me).<strong>


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